


I'll Carry You All The Way Home

by hester_m



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hester_m/pseuds/hester_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I searched for you for so long, Loki. I won’t let you go, now.”</p>
<p>And Loki doesn’t want him to let go, ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Carry You All The Way Home

 

'If they stop loving, I won't stop loving you,

If they stop needing you, I'll still need you'

“Hello, Brother.”

“Hello, Thor.” Loki’s voice cracks on the last note.

“This is your doing, then?” Thor says, as if he didn’t already know, vaguely gesturing to their surroundings.

In the distance, another building crumples, crashing to the ground.

Loki gives a small nod, biting back the embarrassing sound that threatens to escape, as the movement causes new flashes of pain to shoot up the left side of his face. He can feel the blood trickling over his cheekbone, thickly.

Thor nods, more to himself than to Loki, his expression knowing. It irritates Loki.

A drop of warm blood falls from his jaw, splashes on the ground below. One more red stain on this ruined world that has already been painted with it.

His side is throbbing and his hand itches to grasp it, to hold his palm over the deep gash, to stop the warmth from leaking away. But he doesn’t.

“I’ve been looking for you, Loki.”

Loki only manages a tight, “Yes.”

“And, now I’ve found you.”

Loki almost wants to roll his eyes at that. Of course Thor had found him. He’d destroyed half of Midgard; even Thor couldn’t miss that.

“Yes.” he repeats, the word sounding slurred, his vision blurring a little at the edges.

Thor starts to walk over to him. His boots crunch on shattered glass, rock and debris, the sounds echoing in the silence. He carefully steps over a curved piece of metal that looks very much like the Captain’s shield – though Loki can’t really be sure with the thick layer of dust that covers it – and approaches him cautiously.

“You’re injured.” Thor says, now standing but two feet away. Again, Loki has to resist the urge to roll his eyes; Thor: ever the one to point out the obvious.

“What happened?” he asks, and his tone is tinged with concern. It makes something warm and dangerous stir in Loki’s chest.

“They fought back.” Loki says, “But it didn’t matter in the end.”

And then Loki’s legs give way and he’s falling, waiting for the hard smack of cold ground. But it doesn’t come. He looks up and sees Thor’s dazzling blue eyes, so bright and vibrant even when all around him there is only death and destruction. So much life in those blue, blue orbs.

“Brother, can you not heal yourself?”

Loki tries, but his strength is waning and there’s no energy left in his body to conjure up anything but the faintest of green sparks at his fingertips. He shakes his head.

Thor removes his cape and wraps it around Loki’s trembling frame.

“I searched for you for so long, Loki. I won’t let you go, now.”

And Loki doesn’t want him to let go, _ever_. He wants to stay here, huddled in his brother’s arms, strong and safe and –

Thor stands abruptly, Loki gathered against his chest, and _gods_ the pain is blinding.

“Where – “ Loki gulps, “where are we going?”

 “Close your eyes, Loki.” Thor whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to his creased brow.

Loki closes his eyes.

***

Loki wakes.

His eyelids flutter when he tries to open them. It’s an unsettling feeling.

“Thor.” he croaks, as he levers himself up onto his elbows.

Thor seems to materialise from the air, appearing before him within a few short seconds.

“You’re awake.” he says, immediately, “Are you better?”

It’s only then that Loki remembers his injuries, the dull pain that had been aching quietly somewhere in the background, now brought to the fore with a wrenching intensity. He winces, forgiving himself the slip in his mask for the immense pain in his side.

“I tried to ease your suffering, but I am no healer.” Thor says, his voice trailing off at the end, as if ashamed of his lack of skill for healing the wounded.

Loki nods in reply. He can feel, now, the splint in his side has been removed, and some strip of material has been firmly tied around his waist. The fabric is damp beneath his fingers, and when he brings them up to examine them, his blood smudges the tips.

“Are you able to heal yourself, now?”

Loki isn’t certain. He closes his eyes, and attempts a simple spell. He can feel the lick of the flame in his palm, knows without seeing that the flame will be burning a vivid green in his hand, would scorch skin should any other touch it. He snaps his fingers and the strange, lapping sensation of the flame disappears into the air.

Loki opens his eyes again, and looks up at Thor.

Thor gives him a questioning look, but says nothing.

“I will try.” Loki says, in response to Thor’s earlier question, and, gathering what strength he has, he mutters a few foreign words and waits.

The feeling starts in his side and begins to spread out through his body, thin tendrils of magic twisting and curling through his limbs. The pain fades a little, the skin seems to reknit itself together, a penetrating warmth washing over him, around him, inside him. It’s not pleasant, and when the magic appears to have worked its course, Loki feels overwhelmed, like he might burst into floods of tears or into bouts of hysterical laughter – either of which would be unacceptable.

“It worked.” And there’s something of a question in Thor’s tone, so Loki answers him, though he takes a moment to ensure he’s capable of opening his mouth without embarrassing himself, first.

“Yes, it worked.” he says.

“You’re tired. You need to rest.” Thor says, tone authoritative, and usually that would bother Loki, so the fact that it doesn’t, worries him somewhat. Perhaps his healing charm had more severe side effects than he had first thought.

Loki glances around, observing his surroundings. He’s suddenly acutely aware that he has no idea where Thor has taken him.

“Where are we?”

Thor’s lips curve into a very small smile, and for a moment, just a fleeting moment, Loki sees a glimpse of the man his brother once was – boyish grin and twinkling eyes set in a handsome, youthful face. But it lasts a mere moment, then his smile fades.

“We are safe.” he says, simply, “We are somewhere safe.”

The residual effects of the spell are making Loki feel woozy. He wants to lie back down, surrender to the softness of the pillows stacked beneath his head, so invitingly.

“Lay back, brother,” Thor says, a gentle touch to his shoulder, coaxing Loki to fall back, “I shall be here when you wake.”

Loki is even further worried when Thor’s words arouse no doubt, but instead, only reassurance.

***

When Loki wakes once more, Thor is hovering over him, peering down at Loki, curiously.

Loki blinks, then, when Thor continues to stare, “What?”

Thor shakes his head a little, forehead slightly furrowed with confusion.

“Nothing. I thought – but, no, it was nothing.”

Loki sits up and assesses his condition. Satisfied that his magic has healed his injuries well enough (of course it has), he swings his legs over the side of the bed, feet dangling inches above the polished, wooden floor. His head spins and the world tilts, and he has to close his eyes again, briefly, to regain his composure.

“Perhaps, you should – “

“I’m fine, Thor.”

Loki stands. He notes, then, that most of his armour has been removed. He’s actually quite grateful – the armour’s weight would be an unbearable burden, right now. He still wears the thick leather trousers, slim, black tunic and boots.

Thor watches him, uncertainly.

“Let us go outside. Come.” Thor says, gently cupping Loki’s elbow to escort him out of the small, brown room.

They leave the small, brown room, for another larger, brown room, all shiny wood floors and wood-panel walls. The furniture is quaint – short, stocky chairs, decorated with too many cushions, a low coffee-table in the middle, a few newspapers carelessly tossed upon it.

They cross the room to the door (wooden, also) on the other side. When Loki steps out into the air, a certain sense of relief sweeps over him – the little cabin was far too _cozy_ for his tastes.

Thor keeps his hand on Loki’s elbow as they move slowly, treading upon dew-dripping grass. Loki stops when Thor stops.

“It is quite beautiful, is it not?”

Loki silently agrees.

Standing tall and ominous before them are the huge, black shapes of mountains, cut out of the orange-tinged sky that hangs behind them. A few trees dot the vast stretches of grassland, their leaves varying in multiple shades of yellow and orange and brown. There’s an autumnal air about the area, so relaxed and comforting, that Loki cannot help but feel himself relax, too – though only marginally – relishing the release of tension in his stiff body.

The contrast between this – this stunning scene – and the devastated wreck he has left behind, are so stark he can hardly believe he is still in the same realm. He feels worlds away.

“It reminds me of home.” Thor says softly, finally dropping his hand from Loki to hang at his side.

Loki catches himself, before he says something. It _does_ remind him of Asgard – the dusky glow of light that seeps over the land, casts everything in a romantic shadow that is so reminiscent of Asgard, it could almost _be_ Asgard. But, Asgard is not his home.

They gaze on in silence.

Loki feels something brush his hand. A moment later, Thor’s fingers thread through his. It feels so intimate a touch, especially here, as they stand and watch the Sun rise, as it peeks shyly over the pointed tops of the mountains. Loki hadn’t thought he could find such beauty in Midgard.

“Let’s sit. I don’t think you should stand for too long.” Thor says, and he starts to lower himself to the grass. Loki copies him.

They’re still holding hands as they sit, now cross-legged on the damp ground, soil soft from moisture.

“It’s wet.” Loki says.

Thor smiles. Silence falls again.

 “And what shall we do, now?” Loki asks, trusting that Thor will see the deeper meaning behind his words – Thor is a fool, but he is not stupid.

“We carry on, Loki.” Thor says, without turning to look at him, his eyes fixed ahead.

There are only a few more precious moments left of the sunrise. Warm light spills over the dark of the mountain, trickling into every crack, throwing shadowed corners into sudden light.

Thor squeezes his hand. Loki glances at him.

They sit and watch as the Sun moves higher.

Perhaps, Loki thinks, they might stay here a little longer. Maybe, rebuild this shattered realm, lay claim to it themselves. Or, perhaps, they will leave and start afresh someplace else, some strange realm of fire or ice, of beauty and life, or of barren wastelands.

Loki squeezes Thor’s hand back.

He thinks it doesn’t much matter where they go. The future is a path ahead of them – it twists and turns and neither can see what lies at the distant end. But Loki is ready to walk it.

With Thor at his side.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics taken from the song 'Down by the Water' by 'The Drums'


End file.
